Page 84 of Ruthless Protector

I knew what I had to do next.

It was going to hurt.

Luckily, I was used to the pain.

20

Jude

The phone in my office buzzed. I stared at it like it’d sprouted legs. I didn’t use this room much, since I was usually out in the field.

The call was from reception, and I picked it up, frowning. “Yeah, Lulu?”

“Tomas Mendoza is here to see you, can I send him back?”

The fuck?

Tomas did not make house calls. He requested your presence. Because of our history, growing up in the same neighborhood as most of us here at the agency, there was a certain amount of respect between us.

Him and I, though, our relationship was more complicated. To say he wasn’t happy when I became a cop was an understatement. He felt I betrayed him, to an extent. We’d avoided each other for a lot of years. I never would have gotten in the way of an investigation if it involved him, but I also made a decision, even with what I knew, to never actively go after him.

A lot of things had changed since I joined the agency; for one, we now both knew where we stood. But there were still some trust issues there, shit we’d chosen to ignore. At the end of the day, though, we were all family. Yeah, a fucked up and highly dysfunctional family, but we had an understanding, and in recent years, a working relationship.

Still, the man never did anything for nothing, despite our history. And I had no idea what would bring him to my office now.

“Send him down,” I said to Lulu.

Tomas walked in a minute later.

“Tomas.” I motioned for the seat across from me.

“Jude.” Tomas took a seat, body held in that unnaturally still way of his.

I decided to forgo pleasantries. My curiosity over his presence here was well and truly piqued. “What’s going on?”

The man’s dark, razor sharp stare locked on mine. “Business.”

“You want Van in on this?”

Tomas shook his head and relaxed back. “Willa Hartley.”

My spine straightened, muscles bunching. I didn’t like hearing her name coming from his lips. Not one fucking bit. If she was in his sights, if he went after her, I couldn’t be held responsible for what I’d do. “What about her?”

“She’s yours?”

I answered the only way I could, in a language he understood. “Yeah, she’s mine. Anyone touches her, looks at her wrong, fucking thinks about her, and we’ll have a serious problem.”

Tomas’ lips curled up on one side.

“What the fuck is this about?” I asked, not in the mood for games.

“She came to me this morning, asked for a loan.”

I shot to my feet, unable to stay in my damned seat. “She what?”

“Twenty grand.”

Jesus fucking Christ.